It's a Kind of Magic
by LadyDivine91
Summary: Blaine has Kurt under his spell, and that isn't just a cliché turn of phrase. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


_**A/N: This is a re-write. Assumes that Kurt and Blaine met in New York, and not in Ohio. Warning for mention of recreational drug use.**_

"Do it … do it again," a breathless Kurt giggles, rolling partially on one side to look in his lover's eyes.

"Are you sure?" Blaine whispers, fingertips dancing centimeters from Kurt's goose-pimpled flesh. "I mean, we've been at it for most of the evening already. Aren't you getting a little dizzy?"

"I don't care." Kurt giggles again, snorting in his loopiness. "Keep going … please?"

"Alright." Blaine grins. He shifts forward to kiss Kurt on the mouth, capturing each shiver that trembles Kurt's chin with his lips. "Your wish is my command."

Blaine keeps his lips locked to Kurt's as he begins again, whispering words of seduction in his mouth, words Blaine conjures only for him, and Kurt closes his eyes, preparing to be swept away.

Kurt isn't a fan of drugs. He dropped acid once in college - his singular moment of hardcore rebellion. But he didn't groove on it, not in the way he'd feared he would. It had been a tricky rope he was walking. He wasn't looking for an addiction, he just wanted to detach from life for a night, and Jell-O shots with Santana weren't doing the trick. He'd been warned by a friend he was with that tripping on LSD could be unpredictable, which was supposed to be part of the appeal - exploration into the unknown without having to leave his mind. Admittedly, Kurt prefers predictability. He likes to know how many times the road is going to turn, if it's going to be rainy or sunny outside, if he should pack a lunch or bring a sweater.

After the car accident that took his mother's life when he was eight, his father's sudden heart attack while Kurt was in high school, his father's cancer scare while Kurt was in college, and his stepbrother passing away unexpectedly, Kurt put any love he had of surprises to rest. But he was willing to try it since, from what he'd heard, the experience was exactly what he was looking for.

Not until the windowpane was melting beneath his tongue did someone mention that it might make him retrospective if he had heavy issues on his head. _All_ Kurt had in his head were heavy issues, so he was terrified he'd end up stuck in a corner, reflecting on his life, focusing on the bad and crying his eyes out. But it was too late to do anything about it at that point, so he gulped down the nub and held on for the ride.

Luckily, Kurt was at a party at a friend's place - a friend he trusted thoroughly. And since said friend was playing "trip master", Kurt felt safe. The mood was lively, the music bumping, and he was among friends, so his one experiment with acid wasn't altogether bad.

Even if he did puke for about two hours after.

But it made him realize that he does enjoy having his mind altered a bit. The visual distortion. The hallucinations. The lifty feeling, like being lighter than air. Taking acid left him with so many moments of wonder, marveling at his existence. He spent part of the night dancing, getting drawn into the energy of the crowd, and part of the night lying on a floor covered in overstuffed pillows, petting his friend's cat. But mostly he sat on the balcony, smelling the breezes as they passed by, gazing at the stars overhead, lost in his own strange, magical world.

That was the part he liked. That was what he wished he could have more of. But he didn't want the Russian Roulette of chancing a bad trip in order to get it.

When Kurt shared this with his boyfriend Blaine during a game of 'Never Have I Ever', Blaine offered Kurt a unique opportunity to experience those things again safely, and without the aid of pharmaceuticals.

That offer preceded Blaine coming out to Kurt … as a wizard.

He offered to practice his spells on Kurt, help him relive the beautiful moments without the subsequent nausea or the fear of a bad trip. After the initial shock and disbelief, Blaine proved it – creating a rose using the snow that had settled on the windowsill outside. And Kurt jumped at it. He figured it couldn't hurt, if Blaine used the _right_ kinds of spells.

Kurt trusts Blaine. Trusts Blaine with his love, his body, and his life.

Blaine always seems to know exactly which spells to use, which ones will make Kurt feel perfectly sublime on any given day. When he starts to think that his usual repertoire is getting old, he breaks open the spell books and learns a few new ones.

Because he loves Kurt, he wants to make sure that the fabulous world he creates for him never dulls its shine.

Blaine's talents engage all of Kurt's senses: the sparks that fly from Blaine's fingertips like fireworks dazzle Kurt's eyes; the complicated tastes he layers on Kurt's tongue tickle his palate; the music that fills Kurt's ears, composed especially for him, makes his heart swell; the memories Blaine's magic evokes lets Kurt relive the dearest moments from his past.

Through Blaine's magic, Kurt got the chance to see his first ever ballet recital when he was five. He'd fought with his instructor, Madam LaCroix, to wear a pink tutu over his black leotard tights to match the girls in his class – and won. Adult Kurt didn't remember much from that day except for the parents of the other children laughing and pointing at him, so originally it wasn't one of his favorite memories. But getting to see it from an outsider's perspective – how happy he was prancing around in his tutu, the smile on his face, the pride in his eyes – turned it into one of his favorites again.

Kurt got to see his father teach him how to ride a bike without training wheels. He saw the many times he fell, his father racing behind him to pick him up and put him back on the seat every single time until Kurt finally got the hang of it and his father could let go. He'd never realized how exhausting that had been for his father, how hard he had to work to keep up after a while. But he'd done it, and with a smile of his face.

It made Kurt love his father that much more.

He saw his mother sitting with six-year-old him on his bed. He heard her read to him from _The Little Prince_ , and felt her kiss him goodnight. It renewed his recollection of specifics he'd forgotten, like the freckles on her nose, similar to his; the specks of greenish-gold in her blue eyes; the smell of her Ivory soap mixed with the lavender lotion she used on her hands; the soft, musical sound of her voice, whose echo had faded in his ears years ago.

It broke his heart, but it mended it as well.

For his part, Blaine enjoys casting spells on Kurt because it shows the complete trust that Kurt puts in him, into his abilities. And that makes his magic stronger.

"How was that?" Blaine asks, reluctantly pulling away from his moaning boyfriend. He would enjoy nothing more than to keep going and going until Kurt cums from pure bliss, but he likes to check in on him, especially when they get in deep the way they have tonight.

"Try another one?" Kurt begs before the last spell even fades, rolling over on his back to give Blaine space to decide which spell to use.

Blaine chuckles at his boyfriend's impatience. "Okay, okay! This one's an oldie, but a goodie." He raises his hand above Kurt's stomach and wiggles his fingers, and white sparks shoot from his fingertips. They land on the surface of Kurt's skin and burrow their way in. Kurt bites his lower lip as the spell hits, squirming on his back on the bed. Blaine knows he's fighting not to laugh, but he wiggles his fingers again, and Kurt can't help it.

"Okay, okay, okay! Stop! Stop!" Kurt gasps, wrapping his arms around his waist and giggling as the aftereffects leave him. "I'm pretty sure that one's my favorite!"

"Why's that?" Blaine asks, closing his hand into a fist to stop the spell.

"I don't know." Kurt rubs his palm over his belly. "It kind of feels like champagne bubbles popping in my stomach, but not really. It makes me … _effervescently_ happy." He snorts at his own pun. "It's … it's difficult to put into words."

"I know what you mean." Blaine snaps his fingers until his hand glows white, then moves it up Kurt's body. He brings his hand to hover flat over Kurt's chest, filling everywhere it moves with a sensation of warm, tingly, and slightly numb. Kurt closes his eyes to focus on the heat, and Blaine hears Kurt's heart race.

"Do you try these on yourself?" Kurt asks, shifting positions to direct Blaine's hand where he wants it to go. Blaine follows Kurt's silent command and adds to the heat - small spirals that seek the dark behind Kurt's eyelids and fill it with soothing waves of color.

"Of course. There's no way I'm going to do something to you that I haven't done to myself first. I wouldn't want to get it wrong and hurt you."

"You'd never hurt me," Kurt whispers, talking beneath the music starting in his ears. "I know you wouldn't. You're just too good."

"I appreciate your faith in me." Blaine lowers his hand to Kurt's skin, making the heat more intense.

"So, which is _your_ favorite?" Kurt bends to follow Blaine's movements, sighing as his hand settles above his heart, sending the heat pulsing through his body with every beat.

"To tell you the truth …" Blaine watches Kurt react, and lets his body react along with his - "I think I like the good old-fashioned kind of magic best."

"And what kind of magic is that?" Kurt breathes in deep as the scent of vanilla fills his nostrils. He pictures rabbits being pulled from hats and cards flying out of sleeves. That's about as old-fashioned as it gets.

"The magic that you do."

Kurt opens his eyes, twisting his neck to look Blaine's way.

"What?" He figures Blaine has to be teasing him. But past the spray of color obscuring his view, Blaine seems serious. "But … I don't do any magic."

"Of course you do." Blaine brushes the backs of his fingers against Kurt's cheek, scooting closer while he talks. "It comes from the sparkle in your eyes. It's in your designs, in your cooking. It's in your voice when you sing" – Blaine moves his hand down Kurt's body and laces their fingers together – "It's in your hands on my skin" – He runs the tip of his nose against Kurt's, his voice so far below a whisper, Kurt feels his words in the space between their lips – "The touch of your mouth against mine."

The colors swimming in front of Kurt's eyes turn into fire when Blaine kisses him, flames climbing high and glowing a rainbow of colors, ending in pops and sizzles slingshotting through his brain. It dies down when Kurt pulls away, a dizzy smile on his lips.

"I think I like the magic we make together best," Kurt says.

Blaine nibbles Kurt's lower lip, asking for another kiss.

"Yeah," he agrees before Kurt gives it to him, "I like that, too."


End file.
